Oh, Daisy
by flyawaymydarlings
Summary: The story of F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby", with an OC and some different perspective. More or less written to voice some theories over Daisy and Gatsby, along with insight into Gatsby's real cause of death. The ending in this disagrees with the movie; but is completely possible, and what I believe Fitzgerald was implying in the novel.
1. Chapter 1

_Daisy._ There was never anyone, except Daisy.

* * *

Chapter 1

I was born rich. It was a luxury I was granted from generations of family holding places in office. The stiffness of my upbringing is quite likely the reason for my need to rebel when I was older. Arrogant, I see that now. But that is neither here nor there. All these factors about me can be examined through the course of the story.

Jay Gatsby, previously known as James Gats to some, was… Different. Wonderful. Clever, cunning, kind. But dark. Dark and obsessed and neurotic. Driven, true. Good… Debatable. He was, quite possibly, the worst man I've ever known. And I love him.

I had moved in with Jay when I was twenty-five. He was older, twenty-nine, and was new money. He took pity on me, having run away from my life of wealth to explore the life of an average flapper. To be fair, I took a large sum of money with me on my journey. I was engaged to some young politician, not by my own will. It was due to the threat of fancying him or being cut off from my income.

So, logically, I ran away from Washington, heading to New York to learn the ways of the city. I couldn't stand the lower-class apartment I lived in, even if I spent close to no time in it. My days were spent drinking so at night I could dance and gamble. It wasn't long, less than three months of being on my own, although, I was rarely lonely, before I had lost all my money. And I couldn't get a job, not one of would finance me properly. I wasn't educated in the least, less than most girls. For me, I never saw the use of it.

It wasn't long after that I went to my first Gatsby party. I'd heard of them, always wanted to go, but never had any means of getting there. I couldn't drive, not that I had a car, and cabs charged extra to go to the West Egg over the weekend, his parties caused so much traffic, and having to deal with all the drunk riders on the way back.

Luckily, a man who I had been temporarily living with at the time had expressed interest in going, for him, again. I concurred, and that night we found ourselves parked outside the most marvelous mansion I had ever seen. It was grand, not the grandest, but there was something about it… The atmosphere, the aroma, the music, the people. All of it. All of it added an air of mystery and magic like nothing I had ever experienced.

I was quickly separated by my escort, not that I minded, and I'm sure neither did he. There were plenty of others just like us everywhere. I spent that night learning the wild life I lived that I had thought hard-beat, was but a speck to how most the people there lived, and how I soon did, too.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I didn't see Jay my first night. No one ever sees him their first night. Even some who had been going consistently since the beginning had never known him, or in the least, they didn't realize they had. He didn't go around announcing he was the man himself, although there were multiple drunken college men who did just that. That was the trick. To find him, you couldn't be looking. He would only be known by those he wanted to know. I say want… It was more difficult than that. _Needed_.

Jay was a needy person, simple as that. He was… Always alone. Always losing. Everyone. His family, his mentor, his love. Every weekend his house was filled, only to be practically bare three days later. And I think that broke his heart, even though large crowds weren't his reasoning for the extravagance. Through that, his belief that money was the answer to everything strived. It had gotten him a nice house, servants, his position in society… It was the reason he wasn't with Daisy. Of course he thought it was the key to life. Of course he did. And I did too.

The first night. Those words, the impact they have… Not for anyone else, of course, but for me, they're the beginning of the beginning. It's funny. I always figured my beginning and end would be similar, in some ironic way… I suppose it still could be, but what I consider my end, which was much more Jay's than my own, was painfully wrong. Everything about it was simply wrong.

Finally, on my third time, or maybe my fourth, I saw him. At the time, I had no idea is was him, of course. I thought he was simply another party goer. None-the-less, I was instantly riveted by him. He appeared while I was dancing with a cluster of men. I had no one partner in particular, nor did any of them seem to want it that way. I was fine dancing, and going quite a bit farther, with one man or two. However, there were six or seven, all seeming to be in agreement of what was going to happen with me, something I wasn't willing to go along with, even in my lack of correct state of mind. Calling out was no use in the noise, and lights, not when there were hundreds of other women there, who knows how many in the exact same situation. Really, all I can describe it as was luck.

Jay appeared out of the cloud of hands, somehow a completely friendly face in the mess of threatening ones. I'd been saved from other attempts before, never from this scale. It had always been ended by a grapple. Not this time. I still remember the first words he said to me.

"You're all right now." How he managed it, to be so… So him. The reassurance in his words was indescribable. As soon as he said it, I believed him to be telling the truth. He would take care of me, make sure I would never need to feel unsafe again. Maybe it was his smile, maybe his voice, possibly the deep purple suit he was wearing. All three, most likely. Jay wasn't just enchanting. He was an enchantment in himself.

And then he took care of the men. It's all a bit of a blur, honestly. I wasn't sober enough to remember the details. I know he told them to leave me alone, and they responded in a testosterone bred denials of authority. He repeated his initial demand, still ever so polite. They responded the same as well. And then they were gone, and he was leading me off. The last thing of the night I remember is him telling me, "Come on, Miss. I'll make sure you're taken care of. Them too." He never did call me "Old Sport." I was one of two.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When I woke up the next evening, the party was still raving on, full force, by noise. I was in a small room, sprawled out on a much too large bed. It slightly disoriented me, as the full events of the night before were rather hazy, and the hangover wasn't quite helping. I felt sluggish, and I figured I probably simply fell asleep in the room… Lord knows what I was doing in it, probably nothing I'd care to remember anyway. On the far wall was a window, in which light filtered in. By the looks of it, it was either the sun rise or set. Either way, it was strange. The party felt so different in the daylight. Daylight always changes everything, though.

As I sat up with a stretch, I noticed a glass of water and note on the little bed stand next to me.

"Miss,

I had you taken in here, seeing as a few of my other guests were becoming abasingly belligerent. I offer my sincerest apologies on behalf of them. There will be someone waiting outside your door, who will escort you to a bathroom, where you will be accommodated with a variety of items to clean up with, if you so choose.

-Jay Gatsby"

Suddenly, last night became slightly clearer, jogged by the note. I wandered out of the room, to find a maid waiting by the door for me, as promised. "Hello, Miss." She smiled warmly, with a formal nod.

"Hello." I returned the gesture. "Would you happen to know the time?"

"Dusk, Miss. I have instructions to take you to the washing corridors." I found that amusing. _Washing corridors _sounded awfully pretentious, even to me.

"That would be lovely, thank you." As she lead the way, it became quite clear as to why it was I needed to be lead. The house was full of twists and turns, with similarly decorated halls leading into completely different themed ones, leading back into the prior set of décor. It was all quite labyrinth like, causing the woman's ease of ability to navigate it to strike me as horribly impressive.

Finally, we arrived at our destination, and as she opened the door, it became clear to me why she referred to washing _corridors. _The room was huge, and branching out into multiple other rooms, all holding different bathroom appliances. The bathroom was unlike anything I'd ever seen, the grandness and amount of golden spouts rendering me all put speechless. The maid placed an impossibly soft towel into my arms, along with another gown to change into –the fact Gatsby had had my size measured in order to do so never crossed my mind then, and probably for the best, too. I would have found it quite off-putting- and closed the door behind her, with a _click. _

I didn't move immediately, simply staring at the extravagance of it all, before finally moseying around the rooms, impressed beyond compare. At last I moved to the shower, to get a proper look at it, and screamed.

In it was a little man with glasses that made his eyes only describable as owlish, inspecting one of the shower's spouts, muttering intently.

He barely glanced up by my outburst, quickly mumbling something and with a sense of finality and wandering out past me, not saying a word, or even truly acknowledging my existence with much more than another fleeting look, as if he couldn't bother to worry about me, there was something much more important for him to be getting to.

The absurdity of it kept me quiet, not thinking to question who he was, or what he was doing in here. However, I did watch him as he left, opening the door with a final last glance, speaking his final peace to the room, it seemed. "It's all real. The water is enough to drown in."

I had absolutely no idea what that meant, and before I could ask, he was gone. But something about the tone he said it in… He seemed almost… _Disappointed. _It was almost heartbreaking, how truly upset he seemed by the nonsense.

…After I cleaned myself up nice and proper, I opened the door, ready to return to the party, only to find a butler outside waiting, instead of the maid. "Mr. Gatsby requested to check up with you, personally." I'm sure my surprise registered on my face.

"Yes, of course." And, with that, he began to lead me off to the mansion's master, going through the twisting turns with as much ease as the maid.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Now, it may be terribly cruel of me to skip the details of me meeting Jay, and my life leading up until when Nick Carraway moved in next door, but that's exactly what I'm going to do. I will summarize, of course.

When I was taken to Jay, he was expectedly very charming, continuously making sure I was doing fine, and apologizing, and asking if there was anything he could do to make me more comfortable. He then offered to show me grand tour of the place himself, adding it probably wouldn't get done in one night. I told him I had all the time in the world, casually mentioning I didn't quite have a living place anyway. That caused him to look surprised, but he didn't push me to say more. Jay was too polite to blatantly make any comment on others fortunes, or lack of, if he felt it didn't need to be said. Needless to say, I was offered to a place in his house for however long I needed, which I politely denied, and he insisted. It was a horribly practiced conversation. I knew what I was meant to say, he knew what he was, and we both knew how it would end.

As for the time until Nick moved in, my life was just short of magical. I lived the most ideal life imaginable for myself. As a flapper, a wild partier, while still housing in the most luxurious of homes in all of West Egg. Every weekend, I met new men, new women, had new drinks, new drugs. Every Friday was the start of a new life for me. And through the weekday, I searched. I explored the house, like a child attempting to find an old Victorian homes secrets would. I learned of all its nooks and crannies, every in

I didn't see Gatsby very much the first few months, save a meal time, or passing in the hall every now and then. He was always busy with something or another. Out and about. And when he wasn't… When he wasn't, he was in one of two places.

If it was day time, he would be at his desk in his room, staring out his window. He could be there for hours, just thinking.

But if it was after dawn, he would be on his dock. In fact, he went to the dock almost every night, just staring out at nothing. I was always told by the help never to disturb Master Gatsby when he was out there. And, for a while, I listened. And listening to them for so long was a mistake.

He was standing out on the dock, as I had seen him do so many times before, and I simply couldn't help myself. I've never been a girl with much self-control. I went to him- _well, _I _snuck up _on him. Behind him. "Mr. Gatsby?" It was strange to call someone so close to my own age "Mister," but seeing as I was living in his house, it seemed a sign of respect I should show still.

Jay turned to me, wiping his eyes with his sleeve in a subtle, fluid motion, but it was all too obvious he had been crying. Not much, but enough.

"It's cold out." He said off-handedly. It was strange, a side of him I'd yet to see. Jay was always one to answer you straightly.

"Are you alright?"

"I've done everything. _Everything. _Things I… And she hasn't ever come. Hasn't ever cared."

I of course, had no idea what he was talking about. He sat down, on the dock, letting his feet hang off the edge, which struck me as strange. A man like Jay was one you were used to seeing standing, and only sitting on the most posh furniture. To see him, with his feet dangling off the side like that… It was awfully odd. It's an image I do believe I'll remember forever. In fact, I do believe if he hadn't seemed so low, I would have laughed. But he did, and I didn't. Instead, I sat next to him.

He recounted tales of his past, his present, and, most of all, _her. Of Daisy. _

He must have been vulnerable. In fact, I know he had been. He never shared anything personal when he wasn't. But he wasn't drunk. Funny, for his business, and with his parties, I'd never once seen him drunk. Not even once.

I learned about what he did that night to. The thought of how he got his money had never even crossed my mind. I didn't question much of anything, ever. I supposed I figured he was born into it, like most.

After that night, we spoke more. He would let me into his room, consult me more, on just general things. Never anything to do with what he did. He wanted to keep me away from it, you see.

Anyway, we became closer, and I began to take less interest in the party goers, and more in him. Soon, I found myself in the realization that I wasn't simply infatuated with him. No, I was in love with him.

And that was good, for a while. He cared about me, truly. But he wasn't in love with me. His love was always for Daisy. That was alright though. You see, he never spoke about her. She was all he ever thought about, I'm sure. But he never spoke of her. Speaking of her would have been of no benefit, so why should he?

And so I didn't worry. I couldn't have him, sure, but he could never have her. So it was alright. His love for her didn't faze me. If anything, it made me feel as though I could relate to him more. It was all but a good thing.

That is, until Nick Carraway moved in next door.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I like Nick. In fact, I absolutely adore him. In all of this twisted tale of my life, he was the best of us. Daisy was selfish, Tom was egotistical, Jay was neurotic, Jordan was dishonest, I was manipulative. Nick's greatest fault was his naivety. Something tells me he no longer is, though.

As soon as he had moved in, Jay had people checking into his background. Of course, Jay did so under suspicion. What they found on Nick was much more than Jay had ever bargained for. Nick was a way to Daisy.

They were cousins. And suddenly Jay saw his way back into Daisy's life. And I saw myself falling away from his.

Every weekend, all weekend, Jay had people on watch of Nick. I felt sorry for the boy, I really did. He was under constant surveillance and never even knew it. Finally, he gave in, and had Nick personally invited –at my suggestion, I may add. Leave it to a woman to take charge of the situation.

Nick came, drank, stumbled about, and stayed close to a woman I recognized as Jordan Baker. I had no interest in the sport of golf, but Jay had several articles on her he would sometime leave on the dining table. I used to think he was just a fan. Of course it wasn't that. She was close friends with Daisy. Of course she was.

Jay was never one to do anything straightly. He insisted I not speak to Nick when he arrived to the party. However, he said nothing about following him, which I did, almost the entire night. Jay was interested, so I was as well. And I wasn't the only one. Jay had several "guests" planted to keep tabs on Nick. He was very particular about when and how he was to introduce himself. Everything was planned to a tee. Everything always was with Jay.

It wasn't until this night that Jay found out Jordan was a frequenter of his parties. I spoke to her briefly, after she was pulled away from Nick, while Jay was getting ready to speak to him, so I couldn't tell you the details of their first encounter.

I simply asked if she was _the _Jordan Baker, which she said she was, and I told her I enjoyed hearing of her in the newspapers, which wasn't untrue. She had some scandal a while back where she was caught cheating. I found it amusing. I asked her who the man she was with earlier was, which an odd question wasn't, with how obvious the class difference between the two was, and she responded, "A friend's cousin I'm being set up with." Her eyes however, showed much less criticism than her voice. And we went on our way. Well, she went on hers, and I always managed to keep just out of her sight for the rest of the night, until Jay found me.

Apparently, his meeting with Nick had gone well, but he wasn't quite sure how to go about popping the question of Daisy. He didn't want to seem rude, or like he was simply using Nick, regardless of the fact that was exactly what he was doing. I suggested speaking to and through Jordan.

So, we both retreated for a while, and let Nick and Jordan do whatever it was they were doing, and simply waited, planned, performed, until Jay deemed it the perfect moment to summon Jordan from whatever she was doing. It was quickly decided it would better to simply have a Butler say Jay requested her, and leave it at that. The distance curiosity can drive people is truly wonderful. She followed without question.

When she arrived, Jay greeted her at the door, and offered her a drink, which she accepted, taking the time to make it, as I stayed in my position, strewn along the couch. I offered to leave, as planned, and Jay said he didn't mind me if Ms. Baker didn't. Jordan seemed a bit dazed, but allowed me to stay. My being there or not was to give her the feeling as though she had control of the situation, relax her, and take her nerves away. My idea. A sense of security she had no reason not to feel. She wasn't going to be harmed, simply used. That was Jay's relationship with most everyone. To use them. Even those he cared for.

He gave her the drink, she sat down, he moved to the window, looking out it, with a false pondering gaze, and finally turned to Jordan. It was awfully charming. He apologized for his frankness before saying anything else.

And then he told her everything. He painted the story of him and Daisy, and mentioned thinking he had seen her, her being Jordan, when he was with Daisy once, in Louisville. It was a lie. To make her feel more important. A lie to a liar. She agreed instantly, seeming to suddenly remember him.

"You and Daisy were in a car. And I remember you looked at her the way that all young girls want to be looked at some time."

With that, we knew we had her. Jay gave her an appreciative look, so politely asking her to ask Nick to invite Daisy to tea. She laughed, not seeming to think he was serious, but when she realized he was, easily agreed. Finally, she went to leave, but Jay caught her at the door.

"Please, don't relieve anything. Not yet,"

She eyed him evenly. "I swear."

As she left, it was clear she wouldn't give away her position of power. But she would certainly tease Nick with it. And that was exactly what we wanted.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Needless to say, Nick did as asked.

But before that, Jay met with him. He'd made dates to go out for a drive, multiple times, but Nick never took interest or had time. However, today found it imperative he be able to convince Nick to go with him, as Jordan had rang the day prior, saying she was likely to see Nick that night. And so, he brought me along in that _damned _yellow car of his, and drove up to Nick's. I'd like to think of charming self as the selling point of Nick finally coming with. He introduced us, and I moved to the backseat. I could tell Jay wanted Nick in the front. Again, Jay recounted his backstory, just as he did with Jordan, providing continual, "evidence." Only, this time, he left out a few details he'd shared with Jordan. Namely, Daisy. I never could get tired of listening to him spin details into his life, always with such ease. Sometimes I wondered if he could keep the aspects of his life that were reality and fantasy differentiated. In fact, I know he couldn't.

A police man chased after us for a bit, Jay's speed far over the limit. Jay simply flashes him a card with his own name, and the officer apologizes. This was completely set up earlier. Jay did have certain, helpful ties with the officials, but any old cop wouldn't let him off just because he had a card with his name on it. It had been arranged this man, John Afton, his name was, would see a speeding yellow car around lunch time, and let him go after the driver showed him a little white card. It was all scripted, all a show for Nick. Jay had a need for power, even if it was false.

Once we arrived at lunch, I left the men, Jay wanting to introduce Nick to Meyer Wolfshiem. I'd met Meyer several times before, and every account had been horribly uncomfortable. Everything about him screamed untrustworthy, which, of course, he was. Everyone in Jay's line of work was. But Meyer especially so. And his obvious opinions of me were unsettling. So I went to drink and flirt, letting them do whatever, confident I would find myself a ride home some way or another.

When I got home that night, much, much later, it seemed things had fallen into place for Jay.

I found him pacing back and forth on the dock, fiddling with a pinkie ring he sometimes wore. That was something I wish I had asked him about. It could have held a great deal of symbolism to him; most everything did. Jay's life was one filled to the brim with symbolism.

"Jay?"

He looked at me, but I was unable to see his eyes in the dark. To this day, I wish I could have. Seen whatever was going on in his head. Excitement, joy, fear, anxiety, love, lust, hope, depression. It could have been any number of those, and I'll never know.

His voice, always so purposely rehearsed, answered completely evenly.

"It's warm out, tonight."

"Are you alright?" A disconcerting sense of déjà vu slipped over me.

"I spoke with Mr. Carraway."

"And?"

"He's inviting her over to tea, the day after tomorrow." I felt my heart sink.

"That's great, Jay."

A faint smile crossed his mouth. "It is, isn't it?" His voice was completely neutral.

"Yes. It is. So why do you sound as though it's not?"

He looked at me, eyebrows furrowed in the slightest. "What if she doesn't want to see me?"

"Well, that was the point of all this extravagance. So she would have no choice but to see you."

"And what if that's not what she wants? There must be some reason she hasn't come over yet."

"I don't know why she hasn't come, Jay. I don't know what she wants. I do know this is what you want though. What you've always wanted. Daisy. There never was anyone else for you, was there? But Daisy?"

"Of course not."

"Then what's the problem? This is your chance, Jay. To have things go back to how they were for you. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes! Of course it is. That isn't what I'm worried about."

"Then what are you worried about?" I was well aware of our increasingly loud tones.

"Never mind." He didn't sound angry anymore. He sounded as if he was speaking to someone who was incompetent. Which infuriated me.

"What is it about her anyway? There's no possible way any girl could be how you describe her. It's absurd. Your infatuation with her, after she's made it clear she doesn't love you like you do her. She didn't wait for you Jay. She married that Tom Buchanan fellow."

"She couldn't wait for me. Young girls are meant to be married off young. Not all of them run off to be floozies." It was only with me I had ever seen him drop his banter. I'm sure he did to some extent with Daisy, and possibly Nick. But I saw a young, frightened man, filled with hope and terrified of loss much more often than the charismatic front he used with everyone else. With me, he was a human, not an enigma.

His hit was hard, as he meant for it to be. I was all but stunned. He'd never spoken against me like that before now. I had never spoken so outwardly against him, though. I wasn't upset, however. The entire conversation, more than anything, I was curious. Of how he would react. He was always different, when talking about Daisy. So much so. I wasn't surprised, it was me talking spitefully of her that pushed him to snap at me. No, I wasn't surprised at all. But I was hurt. It put our places in his eyes perfectly clear. And I was still far, _far_ below her, no matter how much he liked me.

"Apologize." I was always one quick to cry. Rarely was I truly upset enough to, but I always did. As I've stated, I'm manipulative.

Even with the dark, I could feel his features soften. "I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

I wiped my cheeks off, looking at him with a new weariness. "Do you value my opinion, Jay?"

He paused, just briefly. I've never been able to decide if the pause held sincerity or dishonesty. "More than most others, in fact."

"Don't put all of these expectations on her." He didn't answer, and I didn't wait. I think back to that night often. Thinking on all the words I could have said instead. All the ones I wish I hadn't. The conversation could have gone entirely differently. Many times I wish it had.

I thought then that he was simply devoted to Daisy. That was never it. He was never in love with her. He was in love with the idea of her.

It wasn't that she was the first nice girl he had ever met. That wasn't it at all. Daisy was the first girl who had taken interest in him that stood for everything he wanted to be. Jay had created an image for himself from a young age. One of greatness. From a very young age, he had dreams for himself of a life that seemed completely unattainable. And then by luck, the dream had become a reality, only for it to be stripped from him. But he had gotten his taste of it. It was a taste he wished to have again, more than anything. Money was a spell. Jay was cast under it. He was still under the allure of money when he met Daisy. She was this beautiful idea that Jay instantly fell in love with. Completely symbolic of his brush with money. She was something he could _almost _have. And he wanted that.

Jay was forever obsessed with becoming the man he shouldn't have had the opportunity to become. When he met Daisy, she became the breathing incarnation of the life he envisioned for himself. That was why he needed her like he did.

Because he finally became that man. And he should have been complete. Yet, once someone is complete, once they're completely happy and content, they become restless. Empty. They have nothing to dream about anymore, for.

If Jay was to become completely happy, he would have been miserable. So of course he worked up Daisy in his mind as this goddess she could never be. Deep down, he knew he could never attain her. Jay had been able to do the impossible, and go from nothing to everything. But if he settled with that, then he would have no purpose. Everyone needs a purpose. And so Daisy became his.

It's why even when he got Daisy, he needed more from her. He needed her to leave Tom, but still live in the world he had created for himself. And when she agreed to do that, he needed her to say she never loved him. And when she said it, he needed to feel like it was true. He was grasping onto strings. Everything was becoming so close to his ideal life. To having everything he wanted. He must have been terrified.

But Jay was an incredibly smart man. He must have always known, she was the one thing that would never end happily for him, no matter how much he had convinced himself that this life was what he wanted, _needed_. Because she wasn't his need at all. What was, was a purpose.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Again, I skip a large bulk of my story; in this case, Jay and Daisy reuniting, and there time together. I don't have much to say on it. I stayed out of their way, for the most part. I spoke to Daisy only twice before our final encounter, actually. I wasn't there when they were first reunited, although, I did head over a while later, to find Nick standing outside in the rain, while the two were inside catching up. Nick's loyalty to Jay really shone through to me at that moment. Over the course of the summer, I began to spend much more time with Nick than I had previously. In fact, I spent much more time with him than I did Jay. So much so, that Jay soon thought I had feelings for Nick. I never did, but I humored him in his assumption. It was easier than him figuring the truth.

Living conditions became awkward. That was only added to with Daisy's continually increasing presence, which lead to my continued absence. Looking back, I wish things hadn't gone quite like that, although the friendship that sprung with Nick will never be a regret. He was a fine person. One of the few true good people in this world, I do believe.

When Nick decided to take back his house, I went back to Jay's, only to have them appear a short while later, Jay wanting to give Daisy the grand tour. There was an unspeakable and undeniable charm about her. This was the moment I finally understood Jay's attraction to her. Everything about the girl screamed of money. I'd known quite the amount of people just like her, but she was easily the youngest. I'm not sure what it was so special about her upbringing that gave her this aura so effortlessly. Something tells me that she worked just as hard as Jay did for other's to twist other's portrayal of her. They were made for each other, Jay and Daisy. Never had two such fine people been so incredibly insecure.

I was polite enough, more in fact. –I could feel Jay's eyes on me, making sure I stayed decent to her, even though he rarely looked away from his golden girl. The entire evening, my stomach was twisted into a knot. Jealously is a maddening feeling. Completely undesirable. After we were introduced, we didn't speak again, or really acknowledge each other. I can assume she knew my feelings for Jay right away. Girls like us always have a sixth sense for that. But she didn't seem to dislike me. She knew she was secure in her position with Jay, and I won't ever be convinced she was fully in love with him. The only person Daisy truly loved was herself. Not even her daughter meant much to her.

Nick and I hung back together, Jay keeping Daisy in front, pushing her forward in the fantasy he turned into a reality, the one he was now so close to completing. For her part, she seemed honestly awestruck with his life, something I'm sure thrilled him beyond his belief.

I saw her about often after that, always from afar. We seemed to have come to a silent agreement not to speak to one another. Of course, I did my best to escape whenever I was aware of her presence.

The second time we spoke was when she and her husband came over for a party. Jay was aware they were to arrive, and spoke to me willingly for the first time since our spat on the dock. All the time previously, we'd spoken almost as little as Daisy and I. He came to me to request I entertain Tom when they arrived. I replied with something along the lines of, "Why should I?" Very mature, I know. He simply thanked me and left, knowing even without my reassurance I'd do it. And I did.

Again, I greeted Daisy, told her she looked lovely, and she did the same. The tension between us five, -Jay, Nick, Daisy, Tom and myself- could be cut through with a dull knife. Jay made a subtle gesture towards Tom, implying it was my time to go. So, I swooped in, taking his arm and asking if he'd mind escorting me to get a drink. Daisy seemed grateful, to my surprise. I suppose this had been previously planned between the pair. Poor Nick looked awfully out of place and awkward. He had deep connections to every party in this affair. It must've been maddening for the boy.

I engaged him in a riveting conversation about stocks and the science of horseback riding, using the class I had installed in me from birth to keep up. All young well-to-do girls knew conversations to hold the common respectable man's interest, for all common respectable men were practically the same. There's only so much change one can do and still remain respectable. Most girls simply chose to ignore it, though. It's more fun to make the men work for you. But I'd been tasked with keeping Tom entertained, thusly making it convincing I found these topics thrilling. It worked for quite a long while. Tom went as far as to suggesting we find an empty room. I laughed and playfully told him I'm a bit more work than that, but maybe next time –as _if_\- and he seemed suddenly aware he had a wife, and went on a hunt for her.

I didn't see any of the others for the rest of the evening, instead my focus being drawn to a familiar googley-eyed man I hadn't seen since the brush in the bathroom so much time ago. I simply followed him about, always from distance, endlessly intrigued by the man. He did nothing too terribly out of the ordinary. Mostly, he just inspected things and muttered to himself, looking continually disappointed. He didn't ever drink or eat anything, which I found odd, along with the fact that he didn't seem to take any interest in any other party goers. In fact, he seemed oblivious. I'm surprised Gatsby wasn't weary of a man always inspecting his house so thoroughly. Jay had tabs on all his party goers. So I have no doubt that Jay was always aware of his presence. It makes me wonder if Jay knew him personally. There was so many things I was too ignorant to ever think of asking. I hate it.

Finally, the party began to clear out at an ungodly hour of Sunday morning. I had retreated to my room long ago, from where I saw Nick and Jay speaking by pool. I'd chosen the room because it was the best one to watch people come from. Jay's was on the far side of the mansion, facing only the dock and Nick's house. He really did like his privacy.

I opened the window, to listen in. It was faint, but Jay seemed distraught about Daisy not having a good time. Then something caught my attention. He was upset she didn't like the life he had created. She wants to run away, but that would destroy the dream he's had for himself. I felt worried he would do it, leave everything for her. I remember the feeling clearly. Sheer panic. But that wasn't the case. Jay wanted the perfect life. The one he so long envisioned to the last detail. This should have been the first sign telling me his obsession towards her was selfish, not real. I'm much wiser than I was then though. Looking back, these things all seemed so obvious.

I'll never forget the look on Jay's face when Nick told him he couldn't repeat the past. It was nothing I'd ever seen cross him before. I didn't know it at the time, but he was furious. Ragingly so. Jay was so wonderful at keeping his emotions under lock and key, and he wasn't about to have an outburst at Nick. He respected the other man too much to ever outwardly do anything of offence to him. Rightfully so too. The anger's energy was quickly transferred into something else though: hope. Hope, with a dash of passion and pinch of persistence. He so quickly was able to convince himself that his every ideal for his life –the past- could be recreated. It was the purest form of hope I'd ever witnessed, and probably ever will.

Nick left, and I went to find Jay. When I did, I found him holding a staff meeting, pacing furiously, shouting out wild accusations at the servants, face a horrible shade of red. He may have been able to keep up the charade when people of importance were around him, but his emotions seemed to catch up to him later. I think he was scared at the moment, more so than angry. That's what made him snap. Anger was a feeling he was used to, one he easily ignored, as it did little good for him. But fear was new and strange. His life had been going in the direction he'd envisioned for so long, and was slowly beginning to strip from him, for the second time in his life. He didn't know how to handle it.

I swiftly went to him, calling his name, but he didn't seem to hear me.

I caught his arm, pulling his attention towards me. "Jay!" The look in his eyes was the one I noticed earlier, the one I couldn't identify. Now it became clear what it was. I would only see this fury in him once more. It was an emotion in him only Daisy could bring about. When he looked at me, the anger didn't fade. I would have been afraid if I hadn't been positive in my position that he would never hurt me. I shouldn't have held so firm to that belief.

"Jay," I repeated, voice much softer. "What are you doing?"

He didn't seem to recognize me fully. It was as though red clouded his vision. "They're dirty liars, the lot of them!" He offered no further explanation.

I knitted my eyebrows, a troubled frown across my face. "What have they done?"

"They've stolen from me!" Never had he sounded more on the brink of insanity.

"What have they stolen?"

"And they gossip! They talk to the newsmen to make a cheap buck as though my pay isn't enough! No one here is loyal!"

"Not one?"

He simply looked at me, for a moment, the anger morphing into a heartbreaking look of despair. He opened his mouth to respond, but his voice broke on the first word. He was almost to the point of tears. I thought I he was fading out of it, but no luck.

The moment past, and rage built up again. Jay broke free of my loose grip on his arm, huffing away, yelling back the whole lot was fired.

A couple of the younger girls were crying, and the rest in a solemn distressed muttering. I tried to comfort them for a bit, before promising I'd go speak to him, and once again heading off on his track.

I found him on the phone, talking to Meyer, to my horror, discussing a deal to get new servants.

"Jay!"

He didn't look back. "Not now." He brushed off, continuing listing who he needed for what, and moving onto price.

"James Gats you put that phone down and talk to me this instant!"

He looked over to me, obviously taken aback by my usage of his real name, something I had never done. It worked though. "Listen, Old Sport, we'll talk prices later, yes? I've got to take care of something right now... Alright... Well, that's very kind of you… Right, thank you, take care." He set the phone down and turned to look at me, annoyed. "You need to learn what is and is not your business."

That only made me angrier. "You know perfectly well you can't trust Meyer. Much less have his men all over the house. It's dangerous."

"Mr. Wolfshiem is a respectable man," he said shortly.

"Honestly how stupid do you think I am?"

"Honestly?" He repeated, making his intent clear.

"You're being horrible."

"I'm being safe."

"Jay, none of those people have done anything to hurt you, and you know that perfectly well. What is this all about?"

"I can't take any chances."

"You would really rather have people roaming about who work under Meyer rather than yourself?"

"I trust him and his people."

"Why on earth would you do that? You know perfectly well that man looks out for himself first and everyone else dead last."

"I'm important to him in our business."

"You're easily replaceable and you know it."

Again, he didn't say anything, just regarded me with a cruel eye. No doubt he knew I was right, and no doubt something had begun to snap in him. I was almost afraid he would kick me out, tell me to leave.

"I'm going to bed." He decided, suddenly looking very tired, and very, very old.

"Goodnight." I responded, putting no expression of the slightest in my voice.

That was very close to being the last real conversation we had. I'm forever glad that wasn't the case.


End file.
